Not Another Loss
by Tess d'Urberville
Summary: <html><head></head>Words were not exchanged. Introductions were not made. Accusations never occurred. She left with a regal grace only she possessed. What more could she do? The woman whom he would walk through hell for was back. He was no longer a widower and his child was no longer motherless.</html>
1. Chapter 1

_I wanted to explore the scenario of Regina just leaving the diner without speaking to anyone or being introduced to Marian, etc. I also wanted to delve into how vulnerable she felt and because she was so hurt, her vulnerability has prevented her from being so well-put-together. Therefore, some of her quirks/compulsions/rules have been forgotten. I also wanted to write a bit of an alternate scenario to the ending of 4x01 because my OQ ship-heart hurts. _

_**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Obviously._

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: <strong>

She walks out of the diner on quivering legs. Her four-inch stilettos hindering her from sprinting out. Running both hands through her growing black hair, she lets a lone tear fall. Stopping beneath the entrance arch of Granny's, she closes her eyes—hoping that none of this is real. Taking a moment to collect herself, she inhales the frigid air. After hearing the bell chime from the diner's door, she begins to walk away. From afar, she hears a sorrowful voice call her name, but she knows she can't look back. She keeps her head high and her hands in her pockets. Regina walks away.

The long walk to the mansion is a journey. Her heels getting stuck in the cracks of the sidewalk. The unwelcoming cold air seeping through her stockings. Her restless hands going in and out from her jacket pockets. But most of all, the hot streaming tears stinging her dried out eyes. _I am a queen._ She quickly reminds herself. _Back straight, head up, and walk with purpose_.

Finally seeing the white pillars of her porch in the distance, she picks up her pace. Regina had never felt more relieved to see her overbearing home_. _She wants nothing more than to kick her heels off and open that vintage bottle of red she had been telling herself was only for a special occasion. _Some occasion this is _she thought. Finding her keys, she drops them with unsteady hands. She isn't sure if it's from the cold or the overwhelming flood of emotions.

Pushing the key in and rushing through the doorway only to close it with a gentle click, she tosses her keys onto the nearest surface. She lets her leather jacket slide down her arms and leaves it to lie in the doorway. Leaving the maroon cashmere scarf wrapped around her neck, she kicks off her heels, ignoring the clatter and thoughts of potential scratches on her polished hardwood floors. Glancing to her left, she chokes back a sob. Her impeccable living room— decorated as if she were still in her castle. The same living room where she had worn her heart on her sleeve and allowed _him_ into her life.

Taking in a wavering breath, she takes her time to walk upstairs. Finding the second door on her left, she pushes it open, tensing immediately at the sight. On the left side of her immaculately made bed is a folded evergreen long sleeve Henley. Walking slowly towards the offending material, she hesitantly reaches for it. Instantly, she brings it tightly to her chest, burying her nose in _his_ scent. Not being able to keep her heartbreak at bay, the dam breaks.

"Robin…"

Regina lies on what had recently become his side of her bed. With her legs tucked into her chest, she buries her face into his pillow as she clenches his shirt. The repressed tears continued to flow freely. Sobs wracked her body barely allowing a breath to be drawn. Regina can feel her mascara running down her face and stinging her eyes. She knows it will stain her pristine white sheets, but she can't seem to stop or care. Bringing his shirt to cover her face, she takes a deep breath. Just as much as his scent calms her, it also releases another wave of tears. Throwing the shirt onto the floor, she turns over to lie on her back.

Staring up at the ceiling, she continues to let the burning tears fall from her eyes. With her breathing now under control, she takes a minute to herself. _This is pathetic. I am a resilient queen. A queen everyone feared. I am better than…than some __**thief. **_With that mantra repeating in her head, she gracefully rises from her bed and heads straight to the en suite. Turning the lights on, she winces at her appearance.

Mumbling to herself, "Damn vanity lights."

To say the least, she looks like a train wreck. Black streaks lining her face that have eventually made their way down to her neck. One eye lined with black eyeliner, while the other is completely wiped away. Rolling up the sleeves to her dress and tossing her scarf to the marbled floor, she gently washes away the evidence of her heartache.

Leaving the scarf heaped onto the floor, she slowly walks back into her room. Unzipping her dress, she lets it fall to pool around her ankles. Stepping out of the material, Regina walks to the full-length mirror. Staring at her reflection clad in stockings and a dark red lace bra, she sighs. Continuing to undress until she's just in the matching dark red panties, she walks to his side of the bed. Gently picking up the discarded long sleeve, she pulls it over her head. Returning back to her mirror, she cracks the smallest of smiles. The shirt lands a few inches above her knees and the sleeves are swallowing her lithe arms. With the extra material that goes past her hands, she brings it up to her face and breathes in deeply.

Letting out one last cry of anguish, she makes her way downstairs. Cringing at the cold steps beneath her feet, she finally reaches the kitchen. Opening the cabinet above the stove, she begins scanning the labels of wine—looking for a specific bottle. Stepping back to stand on her tiptoes, she lets out a curse.

"Goddamnit."

Of course it was all the way in the back. Grabbing the small stepping stool, she reaches for the inconveniently placed bottle and brings it down with ease. Not bothering to close the cabinets, she slides over to the drawer for the corkscrew. Not giving the 1994 Château Lafite Rothschild a chance to breathe, she pours the Bordeaux into the nearest glass and takes a generous sip.

It burns a bit as she shallows. Her throat is dry and scratchy from crying, but soon enough, the smooth and silky taste of the dark red makes up for the discomfort. Regina cannot bring herself to sit in _that _room, so she settles for the barstool at the island. She polishes off her current glass only to refill it to the brim once more.

Taking in her surroundings, Regina notices she is in complete darkness. Not a single light illuminated the room, unless one counted the moonlight shining through the kitchen window. Setting her glass aside, she rests her forehead against the cold granite of the island. Her mind flashes back to the diner. Back to Robin pulling his wi—_her_ into his arms. With no one around, she let's her thoughts be heard by no one other than herself.

"Once again, I felt the brunt of heroism. Always the villain—even when I'm not."

Not bothering to soak her now empty glass or put away the opened bottle, she leaves it for tomorrow. Sliding the barstool back, paying no mind to the screech against the tiled floor, she makes her way upstairs. However, as she takes the first step up, she gets the paranoid feeling to check her door—a habit she has made after the curse broke. Peaking through the peephole to ensure there are not any surprise visitors on her doorstep, she jerks back with a gasp.

There's a person sitting on her front porch. Their right side leaning again the large pillar clutching their jacket with a grip so tight, she can see their knuckles turning white. She doesn't want to see anyone, let alone speak to them. With tears already rushing down her freshly washed, but wine flushed face, Regina quietly turns around and heads towards the stairs, only to pause mid-stride.

"I know you're there, milady."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **The ship wouldn't have holes in it if I owned OUaT. Evidently, the ship has a boatload of holes in it. Therefore, I do not own anything.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: <strong>

She freezes. Her strong arms tensing at her sides. Knees locked in place. Her expressive espresso brown eyes wide open as if she were the deer in headlights. Her breathing is erratic. She can hear her own heartbeat as if she ripped it out of her own chest cavity and put it to her ear like a seashell. Ironically enough, the thought of ripping her own heart out has come across her mind. But hearing his voice shattered her already damaged and fragile self.

"Regina, please…I—I need…I need you to open the door."

Turning around to face the white painted door, she exhales deeply. She's shaking. Her knees buckling at the sound of his rough and rugged voice. That accent. It just gets to her every time. She feels herself getting drawn into his heavy foreign drawl. Her legs begin walking toward the door on their own accord. She reaches for the gold doorknob, pausing before she feels the cold metal beneath her fingertips and palm.

She closes her eyes—willing herself to believe he'll just walk away. But just as much she is resilient, his persistence may be worse than hers. Regina's not ready. Not ready to face her harsh reality. Not ready for someone to leave her. Not again. Just as she takes a deep breath in, she feels the all too familiar sting from her eyes. Refusing herself to cry once more, she shifts her eyes from the upper right to the upper left corners. It's a tactic. One that she's perfected to ensure that tears could not escape from her eyes. _I am the fearless Queen _she reminded herself. These mantras are getting harder and harder to believe as the night goes on.

"I know you're right behind this bloody door, milady. I can feel you near. Please, my lo—"

She swings the door open. Her anger briefly forgotten as the cold air enters her home. She remembers something as goose bumps arrive on her legs and the chill goes straight through her body. Regina does not have pants on. Shaking her head as she crosses her arms, she realizes that he's seen it all before. However, her body betrays her. With her nipples hardening and the fluttering in her lower stomach, she tries to prevent the flush from arising on her makeup free face. Hoping to avoid this conversation, she reverts back into her long time enemy, the Evil Queen. The taciturn words leave her mouth without hesitation.

"You lost the right to call me that, _thief. _Leave. Go home to your _family." _

At a loss for words, Robin can't help but stare at her in his green long sleeve. Her strong and toned, yet petite legs are showing—the only thing the oversized piece of clothing does not cover. He's briefly remembering how her smooth legs felt around him. Pulling him deeper inside of her. Squeezing him around the hips to stay right where she needed him. On the other hand, his stare gives her instant flashbacks of the way he would look at her as she released all control of herself. The way she clenched the silk bed sheets. The way she arched her back into him. The way she bit her lower lip to prevent the wanton moan from escaping.

As Robin's silence and blatant staring prolongs, it gives Regina the time to get her bearings. She has resurrected her walls. The same walls that came crumbling down when she bared her heart and soul were now stronger than ever. They even came with reinforcements. It's as if she was her castle in the Enchanted Forest and her walls were being guarded by her notoriously lethal Black Knights. She blankly stares at him with cold eyes.

"Leave, outlaw. You are no longer welcome here."

Finally finding his voice, "Regina, please. We need to talk. Let me in…please."

Her dry, loud laugh sends shivers down Robin's spine. The double entendre is clearly lost on him. She can't stop. Her body is shaking with every laugh. With her hands clenched in fists, she doubles over. Now bent at the waist, her arms wrap themselves around her midsection. It feels like eons before her laughter subsides. She wipes away the tears that must have fallen from her laughter or his words—she isn't sure.

"Let you in? And what good has that brought me?"

"Regina. I know that I've hurt you. But Marian…she is my wife."

_Wife_. A word that makes her feel violently ill. She is and has been many things, but never once had she ever bore the title of _mistress _and she isn't about to brand it upon herself now. Not when she has reached redemption and acknowledged the flaws of her past. Not when all she really wants is that perfect family she thought they could be together. Not when she knows that should she decide to settle for _mistress—_second best really—he is not hers. Not completely. In the end, he will go home to his loving _wife. _It's all too much for her. She's losing her strength. Her will to fight a battle she knows she will not be the victor of. Regina's body becomes languish. No longer are her shoulders square. Her head is bowed down. Eyes cast downwards to the concrete beneath his scuffed boots. She finds her voice, but it has been reduced to whispers.

"Please leave. Please leave and don't ever come back."

She ends her plea with the turn of her heels and the soft click of the door. The deadbolts lock into place and the gold chain makes its way into its matching chain guard. She drags herself up the stairs and back through the second door on her left. Pulling the down comforter from underneath the pillows, she settles herself in bed. Face buried in the pillows, she closes her eyes and lets a heart-rending scream. She could feel her own vibration from her piercing anguish. No tears have fallen, but she pushes her face harder into the softness. Her screams are muffled. Her mouth is getting dry and her throat is becoming hoarse. She screams louder and pounds her fists against the bed—rattling the headboard against the wall. Gradually, the bed stops shaking. Her arms grow sore and tired. The screams turn into whimpers. Eventually, silence makes its entrance. Regina's eyes are gently closed and her breathing has evened out.

The Queen has fallen.

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><p><strong>AN:** A huge thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed! I hope I'm not too horrid at this. This idea has been floating around in my head for quite some time. Fear not, our regal Queen shall return next chapter with some mother-son bonding time! Unfortunately for Regina, I quite enjoyed writing this, but this will be the last "damsel in distress" chapter of her I will ever write. (Possible lie) Also, updates will be pretty slow between this chapter and the first week of November...work. I'M SORRY. R&R and please let me know if there's anything you'd like to see happen—whether it's between Regina & Henry, Regina & Robin, or anyone really. I'll try my best!


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